


Bright Lights Late Nights

by CrimsonRaven



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, F/F, F/M, Gen, because i want them driving old timey cars while they rob banks, the bonnie & clyde au that i desperately wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRaven/pseuds/CrimsonRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few things follow Clarke and Lexa. Empty pockets, cameras, frenzied reporters, frustrated police, and a swath of crime the likes of which the country has never seen. </p>
<p>A carefree life of freedom has a price that few are willing to pay, and when it's time to pay up, it's also time to grab your guns and run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Baby Shot Me Down

* * *

 

**_CLARKE & LEXA STRIKE AGAIN!_ **

_Annapolis, MD, July 24 – The dangerous duo hit hard and fast at Arkadia State Bank. Our infamous ladies continue to evade the law despite our policemen’s best efforts. Eyewitness reports claim that Clarke and Lexa strolled into the lobby without a care and dressed in smart, black & white pinstripe suits. Their faces were obscured by their hats but the long, gold and chestnut hair bounding behind them coupled with the blue and red silk ties (respectively) and rifles leaning against their shoulders told everyone just who had walked into the room. Everyone dropped to the ground when Clarke fired off multiple shots with her automatic rifle across the room, leaving many wounded and three dead. Striding forward, she stopped in the center of the room as her partner in crime moved to get whatever money our innocent citizens still had. Lexa quickly grabbed anything of value, estimating at $157 worth of stolen goods. Immediately after collecting as much as they could carry, the dashed out of the building before Clarke’s gun could even finish smoking._

_Are our lovely ladies so fed up with our current state of affairs that they took up arms and continue to harass those of us just trying to make it through the day? Should we be afraid that our mothers and sisters will put on a pair of trousers, abandon their husbands, and follow in their footsteps? If so, I’d like to order in my own pair of snazzy trousers before the local tailor has a waiting list._

_Sources claim suspects were last seen headed southwest. Is this the last we’ll endure Clarke & Lexa’s reign of terror? Only time will tell._

 

* * *

 

“May I have this dance?”

Setting down the newspaper, Clarke looked up at the offered hand. Even in the dim light, she could make out the blue sheen of the gems draped on the wrist. Following the wrist to the owner, she was met with brilliant green eyes. Tracing the sleek lines of the red dress draped over an all too perfect form, she grinned and accepted the offered hand. It was a nice compliment to her own black one.

“Only if you make it a good one, Lexa.”

With a soft smile, Lexa pulled Clarke out of her chair and towards the dancefloor. Placing her hand on Lexa’s waist, she waited until she felt a hand fall on her shoulder before pushing her companion backwards.

“I’m hoping that you weren’t expecting to lead, Lexa.”

“As if you’d let me.”

“You know me too well.”

They spun with a leisurely ease around the crowd, the low light and cigar smoke obscuring them from prying eyes. The soft sounds of a saxophone moved past all the crisp suits and followed the pair into a shadowy corner. Wrapping her arm around Lexa’s waist, she pulled her in until she was back against the wall and Lexa’s arm wrapping around Clarke’s neck, pulling them flush against each other. They let go of their hands and trailed them down each other’s waist until they rested on their hips.

“One for the road?”

With a grin, Clarke obliged and tilted her head up to place a heated kiss on Lexa’s lips. They pressed into each other further as fingers began to skirt along the dress’ hem, bringing the edges up until they reached mid-thigh. In the hazy room, no one paid much attention to the flash of steel strapped to their legs.

Pulling apart, they drew the pistols from their holsters, taking their time when their fingers brushed against bare skin.

Turning to face the room, Clarke raised her pistol, aimed it up into the air, and fired a warning shot to gain the room’s attention. Everyone’s hands went up to cover their ears from the deafening sound. Looking at the source, the color drained from their face when they were met with two guns aimed at the room. They parted when Lexa stepped forward into the crowd.

“This is a robbery. I’m assuming you all know what to do.”

No one in the room moved until Clarke put her back against Lexa’s, shooting at the bartender who had begun to pull out a shotgun from behind the counter. Blood seeped from his chest into his shirt when he was knocked back into the various alcohol bottles behind him, shattering them before sinking to the floor.

“You heard the lady,” she said as she aimed her gun at the crowd. The crowd snapped to attention and began to rid themselves of their valuables and dropped them into a large purse that Lexa had snatched off of a random table.

Once the bag was ready to burst at the seams, the duo exited the room. Closing the door behind her, Lexa winked at the crowd.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

 

* * *

 

“One of these days, I’m going to make you buy your own coffee.”

Clarke’s grin was hidden behind the mug.

“And one of these days, I’ll let you lead.” She chuckled when Lexa scoffed. “Anything interesting in the paper today?”

Lexa’s brow raised at the question. Closing the paper, she turned it around so Clarke could get a good look at the headline.

_"BARTENDER FALLS TO FEMME FATALES"_

“Shame. He made good drinks,” emptying the mug, she let out a soft hum, “Like this coffee. We should leave a good tip.”

Reaching into her purse, Lexa rummaged around for some coins. Pulling out a couple quarters, she dropped them on the counter and stood up to leave. Clarke followed and fell into step beside her. They walked in a comfortable silence as she led Lexa around the corner to a shiny, black V8 parked around the corner.

Settling into the driver’s seat, she turned to look at Lexa who leaned her head back against the seat with her eyes closed.

“Where to?”

Bringing the car to life, she turned to wheel and began the trek down the road. Pulling Lexa’s hand up to her face, she dropped a simple kiss to the back of her hand.

“A place where the boys are so pretty.”

Lexa opened her eyes and straightened in her seat. She turned to face her blonde driver and rubbed her thumb against Clarke’s knuckles. Shifting her weight, she leaned in to press a lingering kiss against her cheek and murmured with a smile.

“And the girls are prettier still.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll can find me at @matchboxflush on tumblr if you want. Talk to me, drop me a line, anything. I'm so bored and alone.


	2. Girl Just Wanna Have Fun

* * *

 

_CLARKE & LEXA FILL UP THEIR CAR AND THEIR WALLETS _

_Highway 1, VA, Aug. 18 — A gas station off of Highway 1 in Virginia suffered a visit from our nefarious girls on a crime spree that appears to be taking them on a joy ride up and down the east coast. Luckily, no one was hurt despite the attendant being held at gunpoint by Lexa while Clarke stood lookout and filled the tank to their car. After the tank was full and their wallets a tad heavier, they hopped into their car and continued on their way, leaving the attendant with a fright as a souvenir._

_“I’m lucky,” he said, “most folks that go near ‘em get shot somewhere real nasty. I thank my lucky stars that they was in a good mood that day.”_

_Police are still baffled as to how they continue to elude their grasp. Are the police growing soft? Or has their incompetence always been so and Clarke & Lexa’s crime spree is simply showing us just how ineffective our police officers are? How can we hope for safety if those sworn to protect us can’t seem to even do that right? _

_Suspects were last seen heading west in a blue Ford Model 40. Send any known information to your local law enforcement._

 

* * *

 

Octavia flinched at the sound of the door slamming. The heavy footsteps echoed through the halls. Scanning the living room, she quickly tried to find a distraction to hide behind when the footsteps grew louder and harsher. Grabbing the folded newspaper on the coffee table, her hands fumbled as she opened it to a random page and buried her face inside. Curling up as much as possible, she tucked her bare feet and the hem of her dress against her side and feigned interest in the articles in front of her. The footsteps stopped when they entered the room.

She peeked over the newspaper when she heard the thump of her brother’s weight falling into the armchair across the room. His disheveled hair peeked out from the officer cap smashed against his face. The shine of his badge seemed blinding. Her face scrunched in concern when she noticed the slump in his shoulders, stretched out legs, and groan coming from under his hat.

“Is dinner ready?” The words were muffled, but they still reached her ears.

“Sorry, Bell. We didn’t have any vegetables and I needed the car to go to the market…,” her reply was muttered as she shifted uncomfortably in her spot. She pulled the newspaper up higher when she heard Bellamy’s long sigh.

“Octavia, just because mom is gone, doesn’t mean that you can slack off on your duties. What would mom say?”

Octavia scoffed, “It doesn’t matter what mom says. She’s dead and thought I’d never get a man because I’m too willful.”

“You _are_ too willful,” Bellamy pushed his hat back onto his head, “You’re seventeen and you’re not even close to finding a suitor that I approve of. Who’s going to take care of you if I’m gone? We don’t have the shop anymore. We don’t have our parents anymore. We have just enough money to keep us afloat thanks to the police station, but that’ll run out when I’m gone. All you’ll have is this house, and without a husband to take care of you, you’ll probably lose the house too.”

He startled at the low growl that rose from his sister’s throat. Her knuckles began to turn white as they clenched around the newspaper, nearly shredding it in her grip.

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I don’t need you thinking like mom and dad did. I might as well be a prisoner in my own house! You can’t keep me on a leash all my life!” She watched him sit up and raise his hands in defense. His eyes flickered down to the shaking newspaper in her hand. Following his gaze, her own dropped to the snapshot and headline of public enemy number one. “You’re afraid I’m going to dress like a man, wake up from all of this, and leave you on your own, is that it?” Moving to her feet, she tossed the paper into his hands and let her voice grow louder. “That I’ll be corrupted and unable to find a husband? That I’ll run off into the wilds and ruin the Blake name?”

She didn’t back down when he stood to tower over her. The fury was evident in his snarl. His shoulders were tense and his breath became ragged.

“Of course I’m afraid that you’ll leave. This is what happens when things change! You get people like Clarke and Lexa who get out of control and run rampant and the rest of us suffer for it!”

Octavia straightened and stood tall.

“At least they’re free to do what they want! I’m stuck here cooking and cleaning and everything else you don’t want to do! Everything that mom and dad said I had to do!”

“And look where their freedom got them! On the run! Running from the law! I’ve haven’t been able to sleep because I have to hunt them down or Pike will have my head!”

Her glare intensified. Raising her hand, she jabbed her finger into his chest.

“And it’s still all about you! It doesn’t matter how this affects me, just how it ruins your life!”

“You know that’s not true.”

“And you know that it is.”

The air around them was still as neither budged from their spot. Their anger being the only thing filling the space between them. The tension was broken when his hand shot out and wrapped itself around her arm. She stumbled when he started walking without warning, dragging her down the hall and up the stairs. Reorienting herself, she winced at the pressure digging into her arm. She almost tripped when she was roughly shoved through the door to her bedroom. Whirling around at the sound of the door slamming shut, she dashed to the door and began to turn the handle to no avail. The quiet rustling of keys on the other side meant one thing. Bellamy had locked her in.

“Open the door!” Her fist pounded on the door. It went ignored.

“I’m not opening it until you come to your senses.” It was muffled, but she could hear him walk away. She was alone and locked in.

“Not this time…,” she muttered before she began to rummage in her closet. She eventually found a pair of loose pants she borrowed from her brother and a simple white blouse. Taking off her dress, she quickly put them off alongside a pair of low shoes. Adjusting her outfit in the mirror, she nodded to herself and made her way to her window. Pulling the curtains apart, she paused when she noticed that it had gotten dark. Pursing her lips, she opened the window, stuck out her head, sought out the tree in their yard, and pulled herself onto the ledge. Bracing herself against the wall, she stretched until she was able to reach the nearest branch. Once settled fully onto the branch, she took a deep breath and dropped to the ground with a slight stumble.

Grinning, she looked back at the house, then took off down the street with no destination in mind. The simple joy of running in the cool, night air was enough.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy rifled through the scattered papers on his desk. Every inch was covered in various reports and folders detailing leads on his current case. Piles and piles of paperwork telling him where to look for Clarke and Lexa. Clarke and Lexa have robbed a gas station. Clarke and Lexa moving north. Clarke and Lexa seen in a Ford. Clarke and Lexa murdered a shopkeeper. Clarke and Lexa. _Clarke and Lexa._

With a roar, he threw his arms out and flung every paper off of the desk. Fists slammed against the empty desk. Curly hair dropped into his vision when the papers settled on the floor around his hunched form. Sinking into his chair, he set his forehead against the cool wood of the worn desk and dug his fingers into his skull.

It’s up to him. If he can’t catch them, they’ll run free and cause mayhem that can put his sister in trouble. He couldn’t stop his father from dying in the war. He couldn’t stop the illness that took his mother. He couldn’t stop their shop from going into bankruptcy. But he sure as hell could stop Octavia from going through it all again. If he can catch them, he’ll get that promotion. And with that promotion, he’ll also be given a little nest egg that could help them stay afloat if times get extra hard once again. A nest egg that will ensure that Octavia will be provided for until she can find a job and a husband to ease her burden and take care of her. She’ll be taken care of. That’s what matters. But first, he needed to apologize.

He stood up with a tired sigh. Pulling out a set of keys from his pocket, he made his way down the hall to his sister’s room. The soft light from under her door trickled into the dark hallway. Unlocking the door, his hand hovered above the knob before raising it further up to rap on the door with a hesitant gentleness reserved only for his sister.

“Octavia?” His voice was soft in the empty hall. She didn’t answer him. Shifting his weight, he cleared his throat and spoke just a bit louder. Loud enough that maybe Octavia couldn’t pretend that she couldn’t hear him through the door. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Glancing at the light under the door, he slowly turned the knob and took a step inside with his stare against the floor. “Look, I shouldn’t have locked you in. It was wrong and I get that you’re mad at me. I was angry and stressed and I took it out on you. O?” Looking up when there was no response, his eyes widened when he took in the empty room. He threw the door wide open and stormed inside. She wasn’t in her room and he grew frantic when he saw the open window. Rushing towards it, he stuck his head out. His knuckles grew white when he saw no sign of her.

 

* * *

 

Octavia was aware of a few things. One, her feet pounding the pavement as she dashed down the street made her heart pound and a laugh to bubble up and escape her mouth. Two, the breeze whipping her hair was welcome against her warm skin. Three, she was lost but not deterred.

Under the street lamps, the town looked vastly different. Shadows stretched in new places and buildings seemed to be a different shape. Moving through town, she had turned blindly on multiple streets until she no longer recognized anything. That’s okay. It was new, exhilarating, and the most freedom she’s had in weeks.

It was short lived when she saw a familiar shape sitting under a street lamp. Slowing to a stop, she then ducked into an alley when she was close enough to see the lettering on the side, marking it as patrol car from the DC Police Department.

She pressed herself as flat as possible against the brick wall. She stayed in the shadows when she began to step backwards towards the alley’s other exits. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“I can’t let them catch me…,” she muttered to herself when she backed around a corner. It was too dark to see the shadow that followed her. Not until she felt a hand cover her mouth. The smell of liquor was strong and a slurred voice tried to shush her. When she felt the other hand begin to slither around her waist, she reached up to grab her assailant and send him flying over her shoulder. It was times like this that she was grateful that Bellamy was overprotective and insisted on learning self-defense. She not grateful, however, for the loud crashing of the man’s landing against some trash cans.

Hearing faint footsteps, she knew that the police also heard the commotion. Knowing that they’d be on her soon, she darted down the alley and tried to stay as quiet as possible. Hitting a dead end, she looked around for an exit, but the brick around her was too high to climb and there were no other exits.

“Great. The one time I go out, I get arrested. I’m going to be locked up forever,” she muttered. She failed to notice one of the doors on the wall slowly open and a large hand reach out. It grasped her arm and pulled her inside with another hand over her mouth. She was lifted off the ground and unable to properly fight back. When the door clicked closed, she heard a gentle voice whisper to her.

“If I let go, will you scream?” Octavia stopped her struggling. After a moment, she nodded a no. Sure enough, she was placed back on the ground and released. She backed away from the man that set her down. He was much larger than she was with dark skin that seemed to mold with the shadows around them. He seemed to shrink on himself to seem less intimidating.

“I thought that you’d like to hide,” he said. It calmed her. “I was closing up the shop and you looked like you needed some help.”

“Do you own this shop?” He snorted at her question. Crossing his arms, he looked away from her.

“People like me don’t get to own a shop as nice as this. I just put away boxes and close up the storeroom when I’m done, then the owners usually leave after I do. They closed early today so we won’t get in trouble.”

She nodded in response. “I’m Octavia.”

“Lincoln.”

“Thanks for helping me out. I don’t get out much.” He chuckled at her annoyed expression.

“It’s alright. I don’t get out much these days either. You can sit on one of the crates if you’d like.”

Lincoln sat down on a large crate behind him. Octavia followed his lead and sat next to him. He scooted to make room. They sat in comfortable silence for a good while. They snuck glances at each other, unsure of what to say. Eventually, Lincoln spoke up.

“I think the coast is clear now. You should probably head home before anyone gets comes looking.”

She watched him wring his hands, eyes focusing on the floor in front of them. After some hesitation, she gave him a hug. Startled, Lincoln froze when he felt her press against his side without warning. He could barely make out a muffled “thank you”. Relaxing, he raised his arm to pat her on the back. Once she pulled away, he looked at Octavia who was now standing in front of him. He gave her a slight nod when she smiled at him. He kept watch when she slipped out of the door into the alley. He released a long breath and leaned back against the wall. He smiled thinking about his new acquaintance. He hoped that he’d see her again, preferably in the daylight.

 

* * *

 

Octavia took a deep breath with her hand on the doorknob. Bellamy was going to yell at her. He was definitely awake. The light coming from the living room window gave him away. She just had to prepare herself and stand her ground. She could do this. Opening the door, she took careful steps inside.

Despite bracing herself, she wasn’t prepared for being nearly bowled over by her brother. He held on tight, she wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he said into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have locked you in your room. I lost my temper and I took it out on you and if I hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t have run away. I was afraid something happened to you...”

Reaching around him, she hugged back.

“I'm still mad.” He seemed to relax in her arms. “But don’t do it again.”

He barked out a laugh and squeezed.

“I won’t. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

_DRUNK MAN FOUND UNCONSCIOUS IN ALLEY_

_Washington D.C., Aug 27, — Local police investigated a disturbance downtown only to find the town drunk out cold in the trash with a large bruise on his neck. This is now the sixth time that Quint has caused a disturbance in the area. Ranging from unpaid fines to claims of assault, this marks his second stint in the adventures of public intoxication. Sentence has yet to be reached._

_CRIME BEAT CONT ON P.14_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I like: Getting back into the swing of writing, Tweaking history for my own nefarious purposes, donuts. Things I don't like: My sister stealing my fan at night.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll can find me at @matchboxflush on tumblr if you want. Talk to me, drop me a line, anything. I'm so bored and alone.


End file.
